Cats
by deschanel10
Summary: "I have studied many philosophers and many cats. The wisdom of cats is infinitely superior." - Hippolyte Taine.  Hi. My name is Buttercup. And when Katniss falls asleep, I lick her toes.
1. Chapter 1

**Cats**

Chapter 1

Hair.

She has nice hair. It is dark and shiny like the soft fur of a mouse.

I like mice, too. They are tasty. I do not know why they are so tasty.

There does not have to be a reason for liking mice. Right?

One can like a color, but there does not have to be any reason for liking it.

Just like I like the color blue. I do not know why I like the color blue. Blue like Prim's eyes and the light fluffy sky. There is not a lot of blue here.

She is now leaving to go to the woods. Her hair is in a braid. I like her hair. It is nice. Just like mice.

I like mice.

Mice are tasty.

I think she would make a nice cat.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

She would not make a nice cat.

I scratch my claws against the bucket and wail for mercy. I struggle to keep my head above the water, but the mean girl with dark hair firmly submerges me under the surface of the water.

She is very very mean.

I hate her.

Despite my pleading, she still pushes my head further and further into the bucket as I flail my claws around, hoping to dig my nails into her flesh just to escape.

She is too strong.

She is too mean.

I hate her.

I surrender to her and the unforgivable darkness when I feel someone pull me out of the bucket.

It is Prim. She rescued me and I love her.

She is the light that secludes the darkness.

She is nice.

The dark haired girl is mean.

She is arguing with Prim, and I quickly crawl away and hiss at the mean girl. My fur drags my bones down towards the ground, and my eyes slowly droop downwards as well.

Prim is begging and cries to the dark haired girl. Prim's sobs and pleas are addressed to Katniss.

Katniss is mean.

I hate Katniss.

Sighing, Katniss gives in to Prim and sternly tells her that I have to be cleaned and disinfested.

I hiss once more at her because clearly the attempted cat-slaughter of a drowning did clean me.

Katniss is mean.

I hate her.

She would not make a very nice cat.

Prim gently picks me up and coos, "It's okay Buttercup. You're fine now. Let's get you cleaned up."

I do not want to be cleaned up, but I love Prim.

She is nice.

And she named me.

I feel pretty now because Buttercup is a pretty name.

I have never been named nor have I felt pretty.

Prim is nice.

I love her.

And she is my family.

_Family._

My first family.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

I distrust Katniss. She is mean. I hate her.

But the similarities between us are undeniable.

I was born to hunt. It's my instinct, my natural behavior. I have a thirst to rip into the rats neck with my sharp feline teeth and sink my claws into…

Never mind the details.

Katniss was born to hunt. She is not a healer, like Prim. She does not have the capacity to see others suffer. She is unable to help others without pushing aside the gruesome thoughts. She was born with compassion, too. But what she does not realize is the power to heal is far harder than to hunt, to kill. And she does not understand that it is far easier to hate than it is to love.

She's a survivor though. I can see a survivor by the look in her eyes. Hers smolder with determination. Her face hardens when she is forced with a difficult task. She leaves everyday with a resolute step, certain that food will make it to the table. She knows how to stay alive.

Cats are also out to survive. All animals are out to survive. Every day, I watch as the coal-covered people drag themselves out of their also coal-dusted houses to work in the coal-infested mines. Their eyes narrate fear and danger. But strength and will flashes across clenched jaw as they risk anything, even lives, for family.

Cats can see many things…

Katniss and I were both born with the capability to love and trust. But she lost one who she dearly loved, and I was abandoned when I was born. She was forced to struggle for herself and Prim, while I had to learn life's lessons before I was even part of life. As we grew up believing life was a sick game, we both found someone we could trust. She found a hunting companion who understood life's struggles. And I found a girl who gives the love I never received before.

But Katniss lacks the ability to forgive and forget as easily as a cat. Cats will forget the past and focus on the present moment. Katniss can never forgive the older woman who looks like Prim. Katniss' eyes are full of betrayal and pain when she looks at this woman. She is unable to forget her past. Shaking, screaming, and sweating torment her while she sleeps. I watch as tears swell down her cheeks each night. Her past is full of loss. And that is her flaw. Her uncontrollable fear of losing those she loves. She's afraid of being abandoned like when her loved one disappeared and when the woman who looks like Prim stayed underneath a fort of sheets for lengths of time.

She is similar to me.

But she is different than me.

After all, I am a cat, and she is a human being.

Plus, she's mean.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

She is stuck in the magical box.

Katniss is in the magical box with moving pictures. I am quizzically staring at this magical box because I cannot spy an opening for Katniss to have gotten in there in the first place.

But I do not care because I am happy. Now, she knows how it feels to be in a confined space. She will understand the fear of suffocating. It is too bad that there is no water in this magical box as well.

Prim is not very happy. She is not happy an all. She is crying. Her blue eyes are filled with drops and drops of water. I do not like when she cries. I do not like those drops and drops of water. And I certainly do not like water. Especially large amounts of water similar to what Prim is currently secreting.

I meow to convince her to stop crying. The water is scaring me. But she does not heed my meow and does not stop weeping. The woman who looks like Prim is her mother, a maternal figure with maternally love. This mother is similar to the mother I never had, but mine abandoned me when I was a kitten. I frown at this mother. She will naturally leave Prim just like mine left me. I move closer to Prim to let her know that when this mother leaves, I will still be there.

The mother tries to console Prim, but it is evident that the mother is just as sad. I am not sad. I try to meow to them to signify that everything is all right because I am still here, but they are too consumed with grief. I am upset because soon the mother is also crying. This is bad. If this unknown source of tears is never depleted, then the world as I know it will flood from sorrow.

I need to escape the tears.

_I need to escape the bucket._

I walk outside. But there are more magical boxes with Katniss inside of them outside as well. There are lots of Katnisses. Why are there so many Katnisses? Are there many Prims too?

Both types of people are watching Katniss inside the magical box. The coal-covered people and the soft-skinned people are both watching what a coal-covered person calls, "replays."

I sit in a confused state until the magical box speaks. Actually, another person in the box is the one speaking. At least Katniss will have company in the magic box. Unfortunately this perky person has a scary cotton-candy-colored wig engulfing her head. Someone should warn her that a foreign blob is on top of her.

She speaks in a comical accent: "And here are your tributes from District 12 for the Seventy-Forth Hunger Games!"

Hunger Games? Or did they say Hungry Games? Will they play this Hungry game in this magical box? I do not think this magical box is large enough to play a game. However, if they still insist on playing this Hungry game, they better watch out. Katniss is always hungry. She will, without a doubt, win this Hungry Games like it's a piece of pie.

Or a piece of rat.

Rats are delicious.

I'm starving.

I turn around towards the alley where I usually find a meager meal.

Here, little ratties. Here, little ratties.

Ready or not, here Buttercup comes!

But before I leave to gulp up some rat meat, I decide to bid Katniss a farewell.

_Farewell Katniss. And may the odds be _ever_ in your favor._


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

A long long time ago where cats hungrily roamed the streets with stars in their eyes,

hungrily searching for food, love, and friendship…

_I was staring into the wide blue eyes of a boy. He was just a little boy with a cherubic face and round pink cheeks. His curley-blonde hair framed his face perfectly._

A friend, _I thought_

"_Kitty!" He cried with joy. I meowed just as enthusiastically. _

Meow meow meow meow meow.

_He reached out for me, and I let him pull me out from under muddy porch. The rain had since gone away from the previous day, and his warm body made me feel a sense of relief. _

_But as I looked at his face again, it turned devilish._

"_You're not a cat. Cats are pretty, and you are not pretty at all."_

_I meowed to contest this statement. _

"_You're so very ugly. You're no kitty. You're trash!" _

_He opened up one of the trash bins lining the street, and flung me into it. I yelped and pleaded, but his face was no longer cherubic. He was enjoying my suffering. _

"_Bye bye trash," the devilish boy sneered, and all I could see was dark as he threw the cap back onto the trash bin. _

"_Beeeeely," I heard a woman shout. "Billy, it's time for your piano lessons! Billy! What are you doing with the trash?"_

Meow meow meow!

_I meowed my hardest for help. But all I heard was Billy angelically say, "Nothing mummy. I found a piece of trash on the street. So I put it back where it belonged."_

_The mother adoringly replied back to her saintly and virtuous son, "Oh Billy, you're just so lovely. How about we grab some cupcakes before piano lessons?"_

_Billy giggled, and I could just imagine his stupid little smirk._

_The sound of footsteps got farther and farther away until the only sound I could only hear was the whisper of my own fear._

I walk down the same alley where I first experienced the evil that life had become. It had the same trash bins. They were all lined up straight and perfectly, as if nothing had ever happened.

I pass a shiny can among the other carelessly discarded cans that people were too lazy to put in the trash bins.

It reflects me. It reflects my mashed-in nose, my scrabbled ears from years of encounters with vicious animals, and my disgusting coat that reminds me of the color of vomit.

_I am ugly._

I look at myself with the same eyes that reflect back at me.

I cast my eyes down. The sight of the scars left behind from all the struggles life threw at me is unbearable.

_I deserved to be abandoned._

She must have been ashamed of me.

_I do not deserve to be loved._

No one would have the capability of loving a creature as ugly as me.

_Life has given me what I deserved._

But I am staying with Prim anyway.

The love and attention she gives me is undeserved, but the love I give her is what she certainly deserves.

And it isn't quite fair for her not to be loved.

And I love her knowing that my love shows that just maybe there is a bit of fairness in the world after all.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

I see it.

I am crouching behind a bush. It is innocently nibbling on a crumb of bread, clearly unaware of my presence. Mice are imbeciles. Their tiny bodies come with tiny brains. Stupid mouse. This is always the best place to find a mouse. The back of the bakery always has crumbs of some sort left from customers leaving with assortments of pastries and bread.

At this time, I usually am at home snuggled against Prim as she does her homework, but today was special. Katniss was in the magical box again. Apparently she is still playing the hungry game. No surprise there. From the very beginning I knew she would win. Nobody is ever hungrier than Katniss.

Ever since the hungry game, people have been raving about how fierce she is.

I chuckle. Of course she is fierce. She's always cranky from the hungriness.

_Concentrate, Buttercup._

I focus on my prey again. The mouse is so cute. I cannot wait until I can rip its throat out.

I lick my lips. Mice are just so adorable and delicious. And this one is nice and plump.

I slink along the brushes until I have a clear attack route to the mouse's position.

_Ready or not, mousey, here I come._

I leap and pounce onto the poor mouse. He never had a chance.

I am enjoying this. His eyes are wide and wavering with terror.

I place my paws onto his tummy to make sure he doesn't squirm his way out of my grasp.

He has nice hair.

It's soft.

Like Katniss' hair.

I show him my sharp teeth, because it's chivalrous to show the opponent how they will die before they are killed. I am about to sink my teeth into his neck when I feel it.

It's water.

Water from the sky.

It's raining!

I quickly let go of the mouse. I could care less about this fat mousey right now. My first priority is to find shelter.

Water. Too much water.

The water is smart. He has the advantage. He is coming from the sky.

Stupid water.

I sprint to find something that will sufficiently cover me from the terrifying water.

So much water.

There's so much water.

I find a jam and jelly stand in the market left empty by the owner, who most likely found cover in some store. I quickly duck under the stand.

The water keeps pouring down from angry, dark clouds. This water is worse than my attempted murder.

_Stupid bucket_, I think as I remember the incident.

At least the water in the bucket was contained and controlled. This water is all over the place. It's in the sky. It's in the air. It condenses into puddles on the ground.

I hate water. I might even hate it more than Katniss.

I laugh.

Nothing will ever beat Katniss on my ranking list for things I absolutely hate. Katniss is number one. After today's rainfall, water surpassed blonde-haired toddlers for ranking two.

Water cannot beat my hate for Katniss since it can at least sometimes be controlled and contained. Katniss can never be controlled. She never lets anything confine or have power over her.

She's like rain. Unpredictable.

And annoying.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

_He is the most beautiful thing in the world._

_My world, at least._

_He is more beautiful than a splay of delicate butterflies flying in an intricate pattern to create a dazzling picture to contrast against a lush landscape._

_He is more beautiful than the fat mouse I almost killed the other day._

_He is like a tall, mysterious, alluring stranger that people just cannot help but get addicted to. _

_He is just so beautiful._

_Woah_. I shake my head, which sends fleas on the rollercoaster of their life.

That was one weird dream sequence.

I blink my eyes a couple times to wake myself up. I stretch my legs, and splash my tail around in the air to get my muscles warmed up.

I am a male cat. It is naturally an odd thought for me to dream about an attractive man. And it is most certainly strange since I have a very large kitty crush on a ravishing feline who lives in town. But may I assure you that I dream of such things because I like to collect pretty objects. I must admit that this hobby is quite peculiar. But aren't all hobbies peculiar? At least mine has a personal significance. I try to make up for my ugliness by collecting pretty things. So perhaps I can make myself feel better knowing that something in my life is pretty for once.

Ouch. That thought spread a tingle throughout my brain.

Deep thinking is most definitely not for the morning.

I decide to go for a little stroll outside. I wonder why I am sounding so sophisticated this morning.

_You sound more sophisticated because your regular conscience is still snoozing, _said my sophisticated thinking voice. _I am Shirley, you're back up thinking voice, who happens to be sophisticated._

Am I going mental?

_Cats don't go mental, you silly fur ball_, said my newly awaken regular thinking voice.

_I'm going back to bed_, Shirley said.

I feel another tingle throughout my cranium.

Anywho, I decide to be a risk-taker today since I am not myself anyway. My first risk is to go to the meadow that is separated from the town by an electric fence.

_Oooh, you're so risky today, Buttercup_, says my thinking voice. _You could be fried kitty if you don't pay attention to that electrified fence._

I am about to tell my thinking voice to shut its trap, when I slam right into the fence. I am so startled that my belch-colored fur sticks up as if I was electrocuted.

_Are we dead?_ My thinking voice asks in a fearful whisper.

_We almost were, thanks to you!_ I meow back to my annoying thinking voice. _Now shut your blabber or else I am going to knock my head ten times against a plank of wood just to shut it _for_ you!_

Finally, my thinking voice decides to keep its mouth shut as I find a hole in the fence hidden by a brush.

The meadow is a little bit scary. Either paranoia is taking over, or I can really hear the footsteps of a terrifying monster. Either way, I decide to run for my life back home.

_Where are we going?_ My annoying little brain bugger decides to ask.

I say "home," and then I meet the man of my dreams. Not in that way, of course.

It is the beautiful stranger in my dream last night. And I am sitting on his hunting boots. I can just feel the power of beauty vibrating off of him as I sit on his feet.

"Hello, cat," He says to me.

His dark hair looks so soft. I want to keep it.

His gray eyes are staring right into my eyes. They are so mesmerizing. I could sit here alllllll day long.

"You're so beautiful," I meow to him.

And then the unthinkable happens. He picks me up.

He would fit perfectly into my collection. I need to find a way to convince him to be part of it.

He is stroking my fur.

This moment is exactly like how I imagined it to be.

_He is as beautiful as delicate butterflies swirling in the wind…._

"Gale! Gale!" I hear a voice call out. It's Prim. "Have you seen a cat with yellow fur?"

As she gets close and closer, I rush to complete my dream.

_He is as beautiful as a plump little mousey…_

It's too late. She has arrived, and now I will never be able to complete my dream moment in reality.

She sighs in relief. "Gale. Thank goodness. You rescued Buttercup!"

Gale smiles and then admits, "I didn't recue him. He ran straight into me headfirst as if he was trying to escape a tiger." He chuckles at the memory of me slamming into his boots. I sigh at his wonderful smile. _Sigh…_

_He's just so dreamy…_ my also sighing thinking voice adds in.

Prim gently takes me from Gale. And for the first time, I try to protest her holding me. I flail my paws around, just trying to touch him.

"Buttercup, I know you're scared, but we're going home now. It's okay." Prim coos.

_It's not alright! I need him to join my collection. He has to join…_

But now Prim has started to move along. Gale says goodbye to Prim as he heads into the woods. His bravery just makes him more divine.

This is my last chance to convince him to be part of my collection.

_Dreamy stranger, it would be a great honor if you to join my collection,_ I meow.

It's no use, for he is already too far away. I sigh. He could have been the centerpiece of my dazzling collection.

I want to cry and tell myself I failed again. How could I have let such a beautiful object leave my grasp?

But then I see a flower.

And it's a buttercup.

_Like us_, says my thinking voice that I'm going to pretend is on mute.

The buttercup is very very pretty. Its bright petals create an aura of happiness and a sense of security.

I want it.

It can be the centerpiece of my collection.

_The buttercup is as beautiful as lovely butterflies dancing in the bright blue sky and the lush landsc…_


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

_Oh, buttercup._

_I can see you as you lightly sway side to side in the slight breeze. You look so delicate and dazzling in the field of green grass. You are the lone survivor of the rest of your buttercups. They may have left you, but I never will. I am a buttercup, just like you. And I promise to never ever ever leave your side. I will never abandon you like the rest of the buttercups did. _

_I promise, and cats don't break promises. _

_It's part of the cat code. _

_Well, there isn't a cat code, but it would certainly be a rule if there was one._

_You are just a young buttercup. Your little yellow petals have just grown in. You are vulnerable and need someone to protect you. I will protect you. You are safe with me. _

I am meowing to the buttercup I met the other day. I am going to assume this buttercup to be a girl, and I am going to name her Buttercup Jr.

Buttercup Jr. is still swaying slowly side to side. She has been doing this for hours. _I've_ been here for hours. Ever since this morning, I decided that it is my sacred duty to stand by this buttercup forever. I have to protect this buttercup to prevent myself from becoming my mother. I will never ever abandon someone. Loneliness is a cruel punishment. It made me feel like life itself abandoned me, and life left me to find a seemingly impossible way back home. Buttercup Jr. will not be left alone. For I, Buttercup, have taken the pledge to protect and keep this buttercup company for eternity.

Buttercup Jr. responds to my pledge by swaying a bit faster. She is a fast learner. I tear up. My Buttercup Jr. is growing up fast.

A butterfly slowly prances towards Buttercup Jr., but I snarl at it. Thanks to my effort, it peacefully flies away.

I am proud. I have defeated my first enemy and saved Buttercup Jr.'s life.

But then I hear sobs. I think it is Prim. She was watching Katniss in the stupid box again. Katniss makes everyone unhappy.

Prim makes her way towards Buttercup Jr. and I. Now Buttercup Jr. can meet Prim. They will like each other. I am sure of it.

When she arrives, Prim picks me up and holds me tight against her. She is crying very hard. I do not like crying at all. Crying means water. And water is not good.

But I don't want to make Prim feel worse. So I snuggle against her and console her with my meows.

_Don't be sad, Prim. I am still here. I will always stay right here with you forever and ever. Don't worry; Buttercup Jr., you, and I are a family. And family stays forever._

My meows are no match against the pain Katniss has caused.

"It's all my fault, Buttercup," Prim starts. "Katniss is suffering because of me."

I meow that it is not her fault that Katniss is a grumpy person. Katniss' permanent scowl is all the proof she needs.

But Prim does not listen to my solid argument and evidence.

"I should have never let her volunteer. I should have pushed her back into the crowd, or quickly ran up to the stage before she could volunteer." Prim begins to weep hysterically again.

I have absolutely no idea what she is talking about. Bur I let her shove her face into my fur. I hope she does not notice the dirt that collected onto my fur because of my mouse-catching adventure last night. She cries and cries into my vomit-colored fur. I do not like all this water that is attacking me, but I love Prim, so she can emit all the water she wants on me.

After a somewhat while, she lifts her head back up. Her eyes are all red and puffy. She is a big mess. Kind of like a rainy day.

I think she feels a tiny bit better after releasing the water. Nobody likes to have an abundant amount of water in them.

She carries me all the way back home, and then she takes a well-deserved nap. When Prim sleeps, I can never tell if she is having a nightmare from her exterior. She always looks like she is dreaming of a light blue sky with fluffy clouds in the shape of mice. But I can tell if she has a nightmare because I have super spidey senses. I can feel the darkness that surrounds Prim when she has a nightmare. And when there is darkness, I lay right next to her and put my wet nose right against her nose to let her know that I will not let the darkness get her.

The next morning, I wake up very early because it is cold. It is extremely cold, and I have an accumulation of fur that is supposed to keep me warm. As I walk outside, I see snow.

Snow! I cannot believe it. White, shiny flakes dancing from the sky float down. The flakes are so entrancing. They create a dance with their glittering surfaces and graceful movements as they fall down towards the ground. I try to catch them with my pink nose to add them to my collection of pretty things. However, each time I catch one, it melts into a drop of water. Disgusting. Why does something so beautiful have to turn into water when I touch it?

So I try to work faster. I stick out my tongue and run everywhere speedy quick. From here to there and then there to here. I catch millions of flakes, but they all die. _Stop dying, little flakies_, I beg of them.

Eventually, I give up. Once again, I fail at adding something so beautiful to my collection. At least I have Buttercup Jr….

Buttercup Jr.!

I forgot about her!

I run as fast as my teeny kitty legs can to Buttercup Jr. She probably thinks I abandoned her. I have to keep my promise. I promised her I would never ever leave her side. I promised that I would protect her for eternity. I promised…

I reach Buttercup Jr.

I see her. And she is drooping from a collection of snowflakes accumulating onto her head of yellow petals. Many of the petals fell. Those petals are quitters. They don't deserve to be part of Buttercup Jr.

She is frozen as the snowflakes keep drifting down. Suddenly snow does not seem so pretty anymore.

I curl around Buttercup Jr., trying to use my body heat to warm her up. Maybe my warm cat body will unfreeze Buttercup Jr. and bring her back to life. Heat beats ice, correct?

I am cold, but I promised Buttercup Jr. that I would protect her from anything, and a promise is a promise. I stay there, curled around Buttercup Jr. for hours. Finally, I know that it's no use. Buttercup Jr. is dead. And she died lonely with no one by her side. She was probably wondering where I was as she died from the snowflakes falling down. I broke my promise, and now she's dead. I hate myself. I am just as bad as my mother. I left Buttercup Jr. when I promised her a million times that I would never ever ever ever ever abandon her. Now look where I am.

I am covered in snow.

Stupid snow. I have never met something so beautiful that is so ugly. The snow is despicable. It killed Buttercup Jr.

I walk away towards home with my coat covered in snow. The snow starts to melt, making my coat feel all heavy. This feels just like when I almost drowned.

I hate buckets. I hate water. I hate Katniss. And I hate snow.

As I look back at Buttercup Jr. one last time, I have to admit that the snow has created a beautiful scene around her. The snow glitters around Buttercup Jr. as her last yellow petal falls onto the snow, creating a final teardrop. _Bye bye Buttercup Jr._

I sigh.

At least Buttercup Jr. has a pretty grave.

And at least she got to see something not coal-covered for once.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

_A while ago…_

I wake up to a beautiful day. Sigh. There's even a lovely breeze wafting through the open windows.

I yawn a couple of times, which makes a deep purring noise. A purring a day, keeps the scary monsters away. And no kitty likes a scary monster. Especially ones as scary as Katniss.

After tousling my hair to fling a couple fleas in different directions, I breathe the fresh and crisp spring air.

I love May. It's the best month of the year. Flowers sprout out from the ground, animals are everywhere, mice are at their fattest…

Mice! I love mice! And I do seem to be in the mood for a nice, juicy mouse, so I start skipping for the bakery. But before I get the chance to even get past the front yard, I see something.

Holey to the moley! It's a monster!

I quickly fly for the nearest emergency ditch. Last week, I dug numerous ditches in the dirt in case of emergencies like this. And all the other cats thought I was loopy.

_Haha, suckers. Who's the loopy kitty now?_

The monster is in the shadows, right next to the house. Thank goodness Prim went into town with her mother for her birthday. She's safe from the monster. Katniss is nowhere to be seen either. But nobody really cares where she is anyway.

Back to the monster.

Where did it come from? It wasn't there before I took my fifth nap today. Ha! It must have sneaked near the house when I was at my weakest: naptime. Smart monster. But then again, it was probably too scared to creep up when I was awake. Iam one fierce feline.

I slink from emergency ditch to emergency ditch until I reach a close distance from the monster. I ponder ways to chase this monster away. I quickly scan around for water. Water always scares things away. Just watch the sun on a rainy day.

There is no sun. Rain scares the sun.

Suddenly, there are no more shadows. The sunlight flashes against the monster and I can see the monster clearly.

And it is not a monster at all.

It's a cow.

Well, at least it looks like a cow.

One day, I was sifting through the trash when I found a book. On the cover was a fat ball of white with black spots splashed all over it. The book was called, _Wow, Little Cow_. But this ex-monster is certainly not as little as the Little Cow in _Wow, Little Cow_. This cow is bigger than me. And I'm huge.

Don't worry. It's all baby fat. Plus, fat is good. It keeps me warm and plush like a pillow. I'm completely huggable.

This cow is not huggable. It's a white skinny thing with black splotches everywhere. Definitely a cow.

And it's kind of cute. Besides the fact it has a gross slash across its shoulder with green slime coming out.

_Yuck, cow. You need a band-aid_, I meow.

_I'm not a cow, you dim-witted furball._

Woah. The cow talked. To me! And it has colorful language.

I like this cow.

_I'm a goat_, the cow huffs.

_No you're not_, I nicely inform this cow. Sometimes less intelligent animals need some help.

_I am a goat. And you are a dense little pack of meat with barf-colored fur! _

This cow is kind of mean. She called me a pack of meat. I am not a pack of _meat_. I am 100% cat. Stupid cow.

But I have to help this poor cow. She's having an identity crisis, and it is my duty as a superior species to give her the facts.

_I know you're in denial, but you are a cow_. I meow very empathetically. I even illustrate my kindness by widening my eyes and nodding my head earnestly. _And there's nothing wrong with being a cow. Cows are very- very _special_ creatures._

The cow does not understand me. Or she is not accepting the truth. I heard that cows easily go into denial.

_Your head is on screwed in backwards, you brainless pile of poop! I am a goat! I am a goat! I am a goat!_ The cow baas, and continues to baa.

Now I am losing my patience. And this cow is getting on my nerves. Firstly, my head is not a screw. It is a head. Secondly, my head is not on backwards. It is on the right way, since I clearly cannot see my tail or my tooshie.

I decide to leave this cow and return back home to take another nap. I'm so tired. I didn't have a nap since an hour ago. It's been _ages._

As I walk back home, I hear Prim and her mother come back from the birthday trip. And as I am about to drift into a haze of dreams, I hear Prim say, "Look, Lady! I got you a new ribbon. It's blue!" Lady, the cow, baas back.

"That's right, Lady. You are the most beautiful _goat_ in the whooooole entire world."

And somewhere in my deep deep sleep, I can hear a laughing cow taunting me.


	10. Chapter 10

Note: Sorry. I don't update as often, I know. I'm so so so busy because of school. And weekends don't week rest time. Weekends mean more time to do the immense amount of work assigned to me. I'll stop complaining now and let you read.

This chapter is a little random. It's quite unclear, so if you don't get it, then I will understand.

_Buttercup and his pals are not mine. Although if I coincidentally find a stray cat who has barf-colored fur, I will name him Buttercup, and perhaps he will be mine._

**Chapter 10**

Days can only turn to dust.

And memories are never truly remembered. They are only replaced by new temporary memories.

But, of course, do not pay heed to my philosophy, for I am a cat. There is no point for me to dwell on moments from the past. It would be a lie for me to say that I am not influenced by the past, naturally. But I won't wake up screaming my head off either.

Ever since Katniss came back from the hungry games, she's been having nightmares. Every single night is a nightmare. And quite frankly, I'm not getting any sleep either.

_The dark berries gleamed in the sunlight. They resembled the dark evening when evil seems to lurk at every corner. The berries were smiling sinisterly. Katniss held them out as if she was putting on a show. Her back was pushed against the back of a stocky, blonde boy. He, too, was holding a palmful of dark berries. They started counting. Each second was an eternity. What in the mice tooshies were they doing?_

_They pushed the berries into their mouths. There was a subtle malevolent laugh reverberating as the dark berries pushed past both of their lips._

_Katniss was definitely going to lose the hungry games if she eats those berries. I have a feeling she won't be so hungry after a dose of crazy berries._

I, of course, remember that moment. But I will most certainly forget it by next month. Cat brains need to rid themselves of thoughts to make space for new ones. Obviously.

But that's not the point. After that moment, Katniss and blondie were named "victors" of the hungry games. Apparently two winners are better than no winner. And then a few days later, boom! Katniss is back. Except we now all live in a mansion with no coal in site. Score.

Life was good for a while. There were soft sofas everywhere, and a whole basket of yarn to play with. I love yarn. Yarn balls are like mice, except when I kill them, their guts splatter everywhere. And then somehow, their guts are put back together into a yarn ball again…

But like I said before, Katniss keeps on having nightmares. She wakes up screaming and sweating. I can feel the fear vibrating off her when she sleeps. She tosses and turns, and then squirms into unnatural positions as if she is going to die. And then the screaming starts. Once, I tried to stuff a yarn ball down her mouth to stop her from screaming. She almost strangled me in her sleep. Not a good idea.

Sometimes blondie comes over. He likes to pet me, which I like, but he reminds me of evil blond toddlers. They look innocent, but then the next moment…BAM! They are shoving you into a dark trash can. The only good things about blondie are 1) He sometimes helps Katniss not scream. 2) He makes delicious cheesy buns. 3) He makes delicious cheesy buns. 4) His cheesy buns are the best.

But he can't stay at our house all the time, so Katniss keeps screaming, and I can't fall asleep, which makes me a cranky cat.

Last week, Katniss was screaming like crazy. Prim was at a friend's house, and her mother was helping a lady in the Seam give birth. Yuck. Childbirth is gross. Inside stuff should stay inside.

Anyway, she was clawing into her sheets, which bothered me because that means one less pair of sheets for _me_ to scratch. So I slink my way onto her bed. I felt bad for her. I used to have nightmares, too. About bottomless buckets. I kept on falling and falling and falling…

Katniss looked like a scared little girl. She didn't have her stone mask on. Her eyebrows her furrowed together in worry and fright. There were tears streaming down her cheeks. She was holding herself with her arms. She looked like a baby kitten whose mother abandoned him.

I laid my furry body right next to her, and I started to purr soothingly. I sang a lullaby about mice and butterflies and yarn and mice and flowers and mice and all the stuff cats like. I licked her cheeks and rubbed my furry head against her neck and cheeks. And finally, I put my nose right against hers like I do to Prim. Katniss stopped screaming. She wrapped her arms around me.

Sometimes people just need to know they are not alone. They need to know that enemies are not enemies at all. And most of all, they need to know that they will always have a place to come home to.

The next morning, I don't think Katniss remembered a thing. But that's okay. Because in a way, Katniss helped me too.

Days can only turn to dust.

And memories cannot be remembered.

But where you've been will tell you where you're going.

* * *

Note: Story number 2 coming... I think. It's going to be called _Puzzles_ and it is about Plutarch.


	11. Chapter 11

Note: Sorry for not updating in a while. The internet died, fleas infested my house, and Thanksgiving sucked to say the least. Oh, and that supposedly relaxing weekend I was supposed to have for Thanksgiving? That was consumed by projects about stupid diseases. Yuck. So, to make up for nnot updating in a while, I'll update a new chapter tomorrow.

_Buttercup and the gang belong to Suzanne Collins and all that whatnot._

**Chapter 11**

Dear Diary,

I had a pretty wonderful day today. I slept for 17 hours, ate a couple mice, played with yarn, watched some soap operas on TV. The usual.

I made a discovery. The plush, leather sofa near the TV is super bouncy. I swear I spent a couple hours bouncing on my butt on that thing. It was like a trampoline! Except sofa version, of course.

Blondie came over again to make Katniss lunch. He's such a pushover. He does whatever Katniss wants him too. He's kind of annoying. In a good way.

I decided to give Lady another chance. Despite the differences, Lady and I have become the bestest best buddies in the whole entire world. We even resolved some issues between us. Remember how Lady was having an identity crisis? Well, we reached a compromise. Lady thinks she is a goat, while I absolutely am positive that she is a cow. I know, Diary. She's so silly to think she is a goat. But what can I do? Cows just aren't known to have lots of stuff up in the noggin. Lady is not a goat. And she is not a cow. She is now officially a cow-goat. Lady wanted to be called a goatow, but goatow sounds utterly ridiculous.

Lady is actually a pretty good friend. She listens to everything I have to say. She listens to my complaints about Katniss. She listens to my whining about how there are still no laws banning water. She even listens intently to my stupid adventures! Although she does make an odd snoring sound when I am talking. One day I might need to ask her to stuff a yarn ball down her throat.

By the way, I found that fat mouse I almost killed the other day. He was hiding in a little grass clump near a tree behind the bakery. Blondie was feeding him a bit of bread. When Blondie left to get more bread to feed this cute, squishy mouse, I killed him. The mouse was in my tummy by the fifth second. Ha. When Blondie came back and saw leftover mouse guts, his eyes widened, and I think he had a day nightmare. His look was priceless. Blondie- 0. Buttercup- 5 million and one (the five million is the amount of his cheese buns I ate when he wasn't looking).

I don't feel like nonexistently writing in this nonexistent diary anymore, so I'm going to go take a nap.

Toodles,

Buttercup,

The smartest cat in the entire history of smart cats


	12. Chapter 12

Note: I kept my promise. Yay for that. Now, I have to go. I have to finish my homework.

_I don't own Buttercup, other people, and Tabasco sauce._

**Chapter 12**

I am not stalking this cat.

I am merely following her as she walks through town. Somebody has to follow her, and it might as well be me.

Isn't it a turn-on to be stalked?

_Not really_

Shut up, thinking voice.

I am getting superb at mentally muting my inner voice. Now, I can't even hear him! Ha. Take that, sucker

_Actually, I am just shutting up like you told me to_, my thinking voice whispered. _You give yourself too much credit._

I give up trying to make my thinking voice shut his trap. I tried threats, asking, polite suggestions. Nothing works! I even tried blackmailing him with a naked picture.

_I don't have naked pictures of myself,_ said my thinking voice. _I don't even think it's possible for a thinking voice to get naked._

Instead of listening to my thinking voice explain his nakedness, I focus on the cat I am currently following. Her name is Princess, and I love her. She is just the most ravishing feline in town. She has fluffy white hair, a cute little black nose, and beady black eyes. And she can kill a mouse fifty different ways without spilling a drop of blood. _Sigh_. She's hotter than Tabasco sauce.

Today Princess is wearing a pink bow around her neck. She could wear a skunk around her neck, and I would still want to jump on her and nuzzle her nose. Woah. Nuzzling noses! This is getting Rated R.

Princess is quietly making way to her house. Even her little kitty strut is perfect. I'm surprised other male cats aren't kissing the ground she has touched. I tried once. Dirt is certainly not delicious.

Every few seconds, I zig-zag in order to follow her without her knowing I'm here. Naturally, she would appreciate my devotion to her, but she might take me following her home the wrong way. I don't want to risk my chances of ending up with her. I planned out our wedding. She'll be wearing a blue bow, and there'll be a whole table of mice appetizers...

I must say, I am the most sneakiest cat in the world. Naturally, there is no prize for such matters, but if there was, I would most definitely receive that prize.

Princess scratches at the back door of her house, and a pretty blonde girl opens the door to let Princess in. Compared to the rest of District 12, this girl and her family are of great wealth. I know this because Katniss and dreamy stranger sell strawberries to this family. Strawberries are precious. Almost nobody eats them, except this family, of course. Sometimes Katniss brings a couple strawberries back from the woods after selling most of them to the rich family. I have never had one, since to eat such a lovely object is treason against beautiful things. Rule #561: "To digest a beautiful object and allow digestive acids to consume a beautiful object is a disgrace to the beautiful community." Katniss shoves them into her mouth. But then again, Katniss doesn't appreciate beauty.

Soon, the last thing I see is Princess' behind. But I cover my eyes. It is not gentleman like to look at a female cat's tooshie.

After climbing a tree and running around in circles around the house in attempts to see Princess, I walk home. The walk home seems serene and wonderful as Princess' beauty affects the world around her.

I decide to take another short nap of five hours, since naps are the best defense against bad stuff. A wise cat once said that evil doesn't feel like attacking those who appear dead. Naturally, it's less exciting to injure something that is already dead.

I got to sleep with dreams of a gorgeous cat-angel shining down from the bright blue sky. It's amazing that Princess has even touched the blue sky. _Sigh x3._

I love love.

* * *

_A couple weeks later_

My heart just shattered into tiny little shards of kitty.

I am telling Lady the entire story of how I fell in love with Princess' soft white hair and wet black nose. And how I was following her when I saw her nuzzling her nose against another cat! She wasn't supposed to end up with another cat. The cat was the neighborhood's most eligible bachelor, Nacho. What a stupid name for a stupid cat. I hate Nacho. I even officially hate the snack, nachos, now, even though I was obsessed with the deliciously cheesy snack. I cry a couple times. The tears were for losing Princess, but the other 75% of tears were for being unable to eat nachos ever again.

I was supposed to be Nacho. I even planned out what Princess and I would name our kittens: Princess Jr. and Buttercup Jr. Now the dream has been murdered by a dirty, rotten cat named Nacho!

Who cares that Nacho has wind swept fur? Who cares that he killed the abnormally large Killer Rat? I'm just as attractive as him. I have fur like the evening sunset and can kill a million mice with one swipe of my sharp claws.

_Actually, your fur is like vomit after eating macaroni and cheese, and you've only killed 2 mice. One was in a coma, and the other was that fat one you finally killed after catching him nineteen times._

"That doesn't matter. Because I thought love was not supposed to be based on looks. Love was based on what's on the inside. Love is the eye of the beh-"

"SNOOOOOOOOORT"

Lady is snoring again. At least she listened for a couple minutes before snoring.

Nevertheless, I don't even bother talking to Lady anymore. Sometimes I wonder if such inferior mammals like cow-goats realize what a priviledge it is to be able to listen to the golden words of an intellectual animal like me. Cow-goats. They just don't get it, do they?

I huff my way into the house and cry myself to sleep on the bouncy sofa. Not so much cry, since I would rather choke on a katniss tubey plant thing than emit water. Cats and water do not belong in the same equation. But I whimper softly until I fall asleep.

Now Princess and Nacho are going to have Princess Jr.'s and Nacho Jr.'s. Stupid little cheesy Nacho Jr.'s.

Why do Buttercup Jr.'s always have to die?

* * *

Note: The next one, I think, will be a fight between Gale and Peeta.


	13. Chapter 13

Note: This takes place in Catching Fire when Katniss is trying on all her wedding dresses. How bored does the styling team get when they have nothing to do?

_Buttercup and company belong to Suzanne Collins_

**Chapter 13**

Today is a very special day.

Katniss gets to try on lots of big, fluffy white dresses. Then, people have to layer loads of makeup on her to make her look decent. I'm telling you, without the makeup, she looks like the abominable snowman. Scratch that. She looks worse than the abominable snowman.

I don't even know why these frantic people running everywhere around the house wants Katniss to model these dresses. They could have chosen Prim. Prim is much prettier, nicer, and less clumsy than Katniss. I'm pretty sure Katniss only has two facial expressions: good day scowl and bad day scowl.

Here's basically what's happening:

Photographer: Katniss! Cheeeeeese!

Katniss: scowl

Photographer: Great! Now let's try a... well, different look now. One, two, three... cheese!

[woah! Look! Katniss' scowl is turning into a ...]

Katniss: scowl

Geesh. The least Katniss could do is turn her frown upside down. These photographers are trying their best to make Katniss look relatively presentable for the whole world to see. They even said "cheese." They're obviously embarrassing themselves by shotuing out mice snacks just to make her smile.

I guess some people are just not born with the natural ability to look dashing in every photo without help (winkwink. not like a cat you know...)

Today, our house is one giant rainbow. All the people frantically flurrying around the house to do who-knows-what make up this rainbow. I swear, every single human being except Prim and her mother have colorful hair-do's, multi-hued skin, and glow-in-the-dark eyebrows. For once, all I want to see is normal people with normal colored features. These colorful people running everywhere is creating a migraine in my head. Soon, all I can see is a skittles commercial turning into a giant tornado. This tornado then turns into a care-bear festival with paper lights and flying fish.

Oh dear. I am losing my mind.

I sprint for the nearest empty room to get away from the attacking rainbow-tornado-carebear-whatnot-skittles-tournament.

As I sit in a quiet room with drab colors, I am relieved. Much better. Finally, Katniss' plain and ugly room (ha. like her) has come to good use.

Namaste...

_That was a close one, Butterscotch, _my thinking voice says. _That rainbow-tornado-hallucination-thing was about to drown us with its fatal colors._

I sigh a long feline sigh. It's quite sad when your thinking voice can't even get your name right.

That close call with the rainbow tornado makes me want to sleep. I yawn a large yawn and curl into a ball.

With my kitty warmth surrounding me, I fall into a deep sleep…

* * *

That was a good nap.

I groggily open my eyes when I hear…

"KITTTTTTTTTYYYYYYYYY!"

"AAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" I scream.

"Don't be scared, little kitty," a plump lady with forest-colored skin coos. "I am a nice little lady who will be the best thing that has ever come into your life!"

...

"AAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" I scream even more. This lady is creepy. I'm sure she's a nice lady. I just personally do not like my nice little ladies with funny colored skin.

"LOOK, VENIA! IT"S A CAT!" the fat green-skinned lady yells with an overly excited tone.

"IT"S NOT A CAT, OCTAVIA!" a skinny and tall lady with aqua skin and funny gold pictures on her skin yells back.

"IT IS, TOO!" Octavia, the fat green lady, refutes.

"NO, OCTAVIA! DON'T BE STUPID!" Venia, the aqua twig woman screams in an annoyed voice. "IT'S A GIANT RAT!"

"EEK! A GIANT MONSTER RAT!" a man with hair that looks like bright orange curley fries squeals.

At this point, I want to kill someone. One, the man's curley fries-like hair is tempting enough that I might just accidently swallow his hair. Yum. Two, these wierdos with different colored features better stop talking in capitals, or else I might sink my sharp teeth into their necks. Three, I am clearly a cat, not a rat. Duhhhh. How stupid are these colorful lunatics?

"IT'S A CAT, FLAVIUS!" Octavia screams at the man with orange hair and dark purple lipstick. As much as she is annoying, Octavia is correct-o. I am a cat. And I am darn proud to be one.

_You're so patriotic, Buttersnap, _my thinking voice says with tears coming out of her non-existent eyes. She is obviously proud of her little Buttersnap growing into a strong feline.

"WELL, VENIA SAID IT'S A RAT!" Flavius remarks, while dramatically pointing to Venia as if she is to blame.

"SO WHAT IF I SAID IT WAS A RAT? LOOK AT IT! IT'S UGLY LIKE A RAT!" Venia shrugs.

That was harsh. This lady hasn't even met me before. How dare she call me ugly when she hasn't even met my inner beauty...

Suddenly, a pair of green hands reach for me.

"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" I scream as Octavia picks me up. "Let me go! Let me go!"

Octavia smiles and kisses my head. "The kitty cat is happy. Heh heh."

Yuck. She kissed me.

I start crying because I hate these people and want them to go away. I'm also crying because now I'm infected with wierdo cooties, and inevitably I'm going to turn into a wierdo like them. I don't want to be a funny looking colorful fruit box of joes.

"Look, the kitty likes me!" Octavia delightfully squeals.

"Awwwww," Flavius coos.

"I would touch it, but the cat makes me want to barf," Venia huffs.

Well, missy, you make me want to vomit, too. Your aqua skin reminds me of candy contaminated by insects and caterpillars and dirt. And your gold tattoos look like slimy little snails crawling all over your face. Ha. Who is barf-worthy now?

"Omigosh, guys! I just had the greatest idea ever in the name of the Capitol!" Flavius squeals in delight. "THREE WORDS: MAKEOVER!"

Oh goodness. When a grown male does not even know how many words "makeover" is, then a cat is not in good hands.

Octavia and Venia jump up and down, and all I want to do is throw up everywhere because me carried by a jumping Octavia is like a rollercoaster that just broke and is heading for a destroyed rail.

The three oddballs drag me to the nearest bathroom.

Here we go...

_Yay! Makeover! Makeover! _my thinking voice squeals.

They dunk me into freezing water and rub me with smelly acids.

_Noooooo! No makeover! No makeover!_ my thinking voice shrieks.

My skin feels like it's going to ditch my body and crawl away to find a new home. My fur is probably screaming for its life as the three looney bins are rubbing and pulling it. I try to squirm away, but I am deceived by their seemingly muscle-less arms. Those bony arms definitely have traces of muscle in them.

After hours of torture, they plop me down on the kitchen table and proceed to take out a funny looking machine robot thing. They attach it to an electrical outlet, which electrocuted me the other day, and turn the thing on. I am suddenly blasted with wind going 200 miles per hour. I am thrown to the other end of the table, and I try to hold on to the wood by sinking my claws into it. My fur feels like it's going to fall off as the hot gusts of air attack me.

"AAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" I call as I am about to fall off the table.

"Too." Almost falling...

"Much." Nearly falling...

"Wind." Falling...

I am relieved when Flavius turns the wind machine off. However, my hair feels funny. It kind of feels like really light cotton candy. I wonder if my fur tastes like cotton candy...

Turns out, the torture isn't over. They stick little bows all over my body. They accidently pinch my skin each time they clip a bow viciously onto my body. Boy do I feel abused.

By then, I am a rainbow with all the different colored bows. I have an urge to find a mirror to see what I look like, but Octavia, Venia, and Flavius are surrounding me. I have no escape.

I am about to start crying again when a man with no colored features walks into the kitchen.

He gasps, and his eyes, which are surrounded with gold lines, widen.

"Venia, Octavia, Flavius, what did you all do?" He asks.

Octavia excitedly squeals, "Cinna, we made the kitty beeee-yooooo-tiful! Doesn't the kitty look so pretty?"

Cinna nods and says, "Oh yes, Octavia. He looks _unique_." I meow for him to save me from this foreign species.

However, Cinna leaves the room, but then comes back with a mirror. Yes! I finally get to see the damage these people have done to me.

I hope I don't look like a total rainbow. The mice will never take me as a serious predator if I look like a rainbow!

As I look at myself, I first cry…

("Look! Kitty is so happy about his makeover!")

… And then I faint.

("Look! Kitty got knocked out by the gorgeousness of his new purple fur!"

Venia [flipping through a style magazine]: "Uh oh. Purple is officially out of style. Magenta is in…"

Flavius [touching his purple lips]: "Aw, shucks."

All three look at each other and then to me with my purple fur.

F&O&V: "DOUBLE MAKEOVER!")


	14. Chapter 14

Note: Haven't updated in a while. Sorry ): It's pretty annoying when authors don't update for long periods of time... This is the penultimate chapter. I feel like this is as far as I can go with Buttercup. There's no more that needs to be written about Buttercup.

_Buttercup and Lilo&Stitch are not mine_

**Chapter 14**

_Rule Number One of Survival_:

_In order to increase chances of survival, dig a minimum of seven emergency ditches at least 2 feet deep around the location of interest_

Today I dug nineteen emergency ditches in the backyard and front lawn.

Unfortunately, since we moved from our old coal-covered shack, our chances of surviving have decreased. Our old house had various emergency ditches, courtesy of me.

The new mansion has no emergency ditches at all. Katniss, being the poor planner as well as investor, found a stupid house with no ditches. How could she forget to find a house with many holes in the dirt for me to hide in?

So today, I decided to take our lives into my own hands.

One: I woke up as early as possible for a cat: noon time.

Then I stretched, which is one of the most important parts of a feline's routine.

Two: I ate a pile of cheesy buns that was lying on the kitchen counter. Seconds later, I found out these cheesy buns belonged to Katniss. They were supposed to be her lunch, but personally, I think I did her a favor. She needs to shed some pounds, anyway. I heard blondes don't find frumpy women attractive. And I thought it was always: finders keepers, losers weepers?

So after Katniss discovered her prized cheesy buns were missing, she automatically came stomping towards me.

Of course she was scowling.

I basically meowed innocently and stared into her hairball-colored eyes with my wide, irresistible kitty eyes, and obviously she fell for my charm. Katniss left me alone and went somewhere else to spread her scowls around.

Three: I took a tiny five hour nap.

Four: After a series of yoga stretches, I went outside to start digging. Using my super speedy digging skills, I managed to dig ten deep holes in the backyard after an hour.

I inspected my work after the grueling labor. Naturally, I was pleased.

The backyard looked like the beautiful moon with wonderful craters.

Then I dug some more ditches in the front lawn.

Thanks to me, the hideous lush field of fresh grass was torn apart into a gorgeous site of dirt and ditches.

I went back inside to find some more cheesy buns. Gosh, they're just so good. I would rob Blondie's bakery for the cheesy buns if I wasn't so scared of his mother. She's worse than Katniss. Blondie's mother is like an upset cloud that farts out lightning bolts of insults. She's frightening and entertaining at the same time.

Anyway, I couldn't find any cheesy buns, so I went outside to look at my emergency ditches again.

I was admiring them until I saw dreamy stranger with a shovel. Dreamy stranger was filling up the holes with dirt!

He was ruining my masterpiece and crucial emergency ditches!

I quickly ran towards him, meowing that he was decreasing all of our chances of survival each time he filled up a ditch.

Dreamy stranger just gave me a flashing smile, and said, "Hello, little cat. I would love to play with you, but Katniss wants me to fill up these holes."

Then he frowned, "I wonder what could have created these ditches."

Dreamy stranger scratched his head and intelligently muttered, "Must have been woodchucks…"

Now, I have nothing against good-looking men, but Dreamy stranger is one of the dumbest people I have met.

I sighed and just let him fill in all the holes.

Suddenly, I heard the neighborhood cats snickering at me. They were all lined up, sitting on a wooden fence.

"Hey Fatto," one mean cat mocked. "Why so many holes?"

"Have you finally decided to bury yourself?" another bully laughed.

"Yeah," more cats chuckled.

"If you need help, we'll gladly help you pile the dirt on youself!"

I sniffed. Why do cats have to be so mean to me? All I want is to be accepted.

But then, I got angry.

"These aren't just any holes, you stupid rodents! These are emergency ditches, and when an emergency occurs, you'll all be fried to death!" I yell. "Ha!"

The insult rebounded off them as if it were a measly butterfly.

"_Emergency _ditches?" a cat squealed.

All the cats erupted into a chorus of laughter and snickering.

"Why," one cat started, "Why would you need emergency ditches? "

Everybody started laughing again.

"It's not like bombs are going to fall right out of the sky!"

* * *

Review, please


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

A long long time later

_Life is a paradox._

I can hear the whistle of bomber planes coming nearer and nearer.

_We learn to live by making a living, but not learning to live by living a life._

It's sad to see that today there is a clear, bright blue sky. The puffy, white clouds are tempting me to claw at them with my paws, even though I know I'll never reach them.

_The cities get bigger, but love is scarce._

Soon, the hovercrafts that will drop bombs will slash through the innocent clouds. And when they leave, all that's left will be scars.

_We find more knowledge, but encounter more problems._

The bombs reach the ground with speed and create a wave of fire. The impact creates a heavy, drumming sound. It almost sounds like an orchestra of bullets.

Lovely.

I sit here with fire erupting and bombs crashing. I hear the cries of people who have burning roofs tumble in. The light layer of coal dust everywhere makes it easy for fire to spread. Bright flames thrash wildly. They create a frightening, yet enchanting dance.

I'm hypnotized by the chaos around me. It's funny how slow everything moves when the world is spinning so fast.

I cannot see the blue sky anymore. Dirt is in the air. Fire is on the ground. Blood traces every corner. Ash tickles every living organism.

Why did everything turn so dark, so quickly?

At this point, everything is no longer slow, anymore. People are running faster. Screams are higher-pitched. The background music of dropping bombs increases in intensity.

My body tells me to run. My brain wants to think.

_Lives are made to eventually be destroyed._

My mind tries to remember where I was before the bombs started falling. But I can't remember anything. All I recall is a bright, blue sky and the sharp whistle of wings piercing the air.

Most likely, I was taking a nap before the bomb attack.

Where is Prim? Where is her mother?

I look everywhere for them. Meowing, I search every corner of the house, underneath beds where scary monsters live, in the bathroom incase someone drank too much OJ, in the bed (that's where I'd be)...

I cannot find them. They seem to have left without a trace.

Vanished into thin air.

_Fights are provoked in attempt to find peace._

I am frightened. Was I abandoned?

_The girl on fire was brought to life here where I sit. And now this fire destroys all that exists._

A bomb crashes into the ground with a crack! and THUD. It causes me to dive for the nearest emergency ditch.

As quick as a slippery seal, I slide across the ground towards the emergency ditch. I make it to the ditch under .2 seconds.

As I peek my head out of my emergency ditch, I remember the neighborhood cats who mocked and bullied me. They are nowhere to be found either.

_"It's not like bombs are going to fall right out of the sky!"_

Part of me wants to laugh at all the cats making fun of me for digging up these ditches in the moist soil. The remaining small part of me is too numb by fright. I am full of questions and worry. Is Prim dead? Or did she leave me to escape the bombs? Why did she leave me?

I thought we were family.

_Family. _

"_Family means no one gets left behind. Or forgotten."_

I am left behind. I am forgotten.

Most certainly, no one is screaming my name. No one is crying for me. No one is trying to find me.

I am not worthy to be loved. I am not worthy to live.

I am just a stupid, obese cat part of something too big and complex for me to understand.

_You're not stupid to me_, my thinking voice whispers empathetically. _You're not even that fat. You just have a bit of baby blubber._

"Thanks for not leaving me behind like the rest of my family, thinking voice," I meow.

_Well, it's not like I have a choice_, my thinking voice starts to say. _I'm located in you head so I can't-_

I interrupt him or her or whatever gender it is, and pretend it never said anything.

"You are my true family."

But I do not truly mean that. My true family is Prim. My true family is Prim's mother. My true family is even intolerable Katniss, who is sometimes tolerable on a good day.

Where is my family?

Where is Prim?

Prim, the sweet girl who innocently laughed as if the world was never a bad place.

Prim, the tiny daughter who rushed to help anybody who was hurt.

Prim, the person who was hurt herself, but never admitted it to keep others happy.

Prim gave me hope that maybe my life had a purpose after all. My purpose was to be her ugly cat, named Buttercup, who would always love her.

But now Prim's gone.

And I'm in an emergency ditch that is actually quite deep.

Where's Lady?

I'm willing to share this ditch...

The fire grows stronger and bursts with tall leaps.

I wonder if the girl who gave me purpose in life, is dead herself.

_Life is a paradox._

I'm in a ball. A ball of hideous throw-up-colored fur.

I hear more bombs.

I hear more screams.

I smell the sick scent of death.

I smell the morose aroma of ash.

And now I am very frightened. My family is gone. There is nothing left of what I once called home. Now, I am once again part of the sick game of Life.

And I am frustrated as well:

_Where is water when I need it most?_

_

* * *

_

Note: Thanks to all the readers, story-alerters, story favoriters, author-favoriters, and most of all: the reviewers.

Reviewers make every author's day, so here's a bit of appreciation to my reviewers (I probably should've listed reviewers as chapter went on, but I didn't...so here's the long list):

gossamergirl

Zenaide 16

ExplorativeComet

Audio Crossfade/FoalyWinsForever

Bookworm71098

Hungry4games

Webgrll1

minimadi12

ReadrOfBooks

epipole

MicesandRices

IsForWinners

HungerGamesFan1

Shadowhuntress on Fire

KiraDiscordia

PandasWithBazookas

Alone in my Thoughts

Anonymous [it was blank...]

Shadow - Kirby

RueofDistrict11

Apprentice Writer

Icy-Zoe

Number One Fan of Journey

LittleSpark

Rue-the-Marauder

s.p

Heart the Squid

Asuba

misticalcookie

behappy283

St. Alaina of Pixie Stix

Thanks for reviewing (:

Now, I'm going to take a break from writing.

I was either going to do an epilogue (SPOILER: scenes from Mockinjay, mostly "crazy cat" and after Prim's death) or a one-shot of "colorful moments in Lady's brain"

...But I don't even know if I'm up to writing either at all.

Review, and maybe we'll see... ( not intentional blackmail)

deschanel10

P.S. I hope you've been able to see the "evolution of Buttercup." [I know, Biology teacher. Individuals don't "evolve."]

Throughout the chapters, Buttercup has gotten smarter...ish


	16. Chapter 16: Epilogue Pt1

**Chapter 16- The Beginning of the End**

_Scars were left from a deed of war,_

_The breath of innocence existed no more._

_The cerulean sky silently stowed away,_

_While darkness stubbornly begged to stay._

_And after all hope had most certainly died,_

_A frayed cat's head could be easily spied_

_popping out of the molested ground,_

_twirling like spool being unwound._

_And now dear readers, as our flight proceeds to descend,_

_I proudly introduce the beginning of the end._

Crash.

The sound of a sad chimney falling due to a small puff of wind wakes a tattered cat. His coat is a hideous yellow: not quite mustard-y, yet not golden sunshine either. Such an unfortunate fellow to have fur as coarse and disgusting as his.

This cat blinks his eyes a couple times, as if the shattered surrounding are merely a hallucination caused by inhaling a too sweet scent of lilacs.

His torn ears adjust to the unnatural sound of solitude.

"Meow," this cat meows.

Translation: "Well, I've a feeling we're not in Kansas anymore."

* * *

_Approximately two months later…_

"Hey, Greg," I cheerfully meow to the pebble guarding my house.

His nonexistent eyes sparkle in the nonexistent sunlight, and he squeals a nonexistent, "Buttercup!" as a nonexistent reply.

Today was an absolutely wonderful nonexistent day:

I strolled to the town square. I meowed a few hellos to the always lovely wind. I angrily yelled at the always moody clouds. I cried when the melted oven at the ex-bakery told me they were out of nonexistent cheesy buns.

"Maybe they will have cheesy buns tomorrow," Greg sympathetically nods.

"Maybe, Greg. Just maybe," I sigh, my shoulders drooping.

My growing buttocks have trouble getting through through the open window as I attempt to squeeze into the house.

Finally, I manage to intimidate my tooshie to fit through the window frame by threatening that I will hunt him down and then murder him.

But then I feel like a mean bully, so I apologize to my butt and promise him a melted can of tuna.

While outside still has traces of crusted blood and fuming dirt particles, my house is extremely slick and clean. The walls are eerily spotless. In fact, their white blankness is a terrifying sight. Nothing should be that uncontaminated.

Susie, Greg's second cousin, is sitting on the leather couch.

"Anything good on TV, Susie?" I half-heartedly ask the round pebble.

"Of course there is!" Susie excitedly yells. "They're playing reruns of _Snow_!"

I look at the television, spotting black and white pixels dance around on the monitor.

It's funny that a year ago, I thought the television set was a magic box. And I thought Katniss was stuck in there…

I chuckle. I sure was a stupid cat.

Suddenly, I hear soft footsteps walking against the squeaky floorboards.

The fur on my back stands straight. I'm in my hunting position. As the footsteps get closer and closer, I stealthily make my way to the kitchen doorway.

I see a human intruder. A human!

Part of me wants to yell, "Hallelujah!" and ask them to carry me to their leader. However, my predator instincts cause me to hiss. Naturally, I can hear flies tremble at the greatness of my voice.

The girl turns around quickly.

As soon as I see the flashing grey eyes, I know that my "savior" is Katniss.

Barf.

I thought saviors were supposed to be good-looking.

Katniss scrunches up her nose, as if disgusted to see _me_.

Hmph. She should be happy to see me. I am the lone survivor of District 12. I am the hero of the falling sphere disaster. I am-

"Buttercup," Katniss whispers.

She squats down and holds out her grimy hand. "Come here, boy."

I hiss in response to her soft words. Her hands are unwelcome. I don't like dirty hands, and I especially do not like dirty hands belonging to a scowling girl. And she _abandoned_ me. Doesn't she remember? They all left me in a stupid emergency ditch. When I woke up, I was terrified. All I could hear was the whistle of the wind and the thundering silence.

I stare at Katniss before blinking my eyes. I was never quite good at staring games.

Katniss sighs. Then she asks, "Want to see Prim?"

I straighten my neck and raise my head.

Prim?

A fuzzy feeling reminding me of warm sunshine fills my chest. I want to see Prim. Even though she was nowhere to be found while I was in my ditch, I know she would never ever abandon me. Prim is the kindest, and most lovely, and most wonderf-

Whoosh.

Katniss picks me up, thinking my meows of love for Prim were meant for her.

She pets me, but her strokes feel like a terrible massage. In fact, it feels like I'm being processed as dog food.

Suddenly, Katniss stuffs me into a moldy bag. It smells like prunes.

"Meow," I complain.

It's too tight in here. I admit, I gained a couple pounds from scavenging. Most of the mice populations were obliterated, but I managed to find scraps of burnt meat in the remains of the butchery. Don't worry; I avoided eating any lamb cuts. It's clear that Lady died from the bomb attack…

Sniffle.

I miss Lady's colorful words of sunshine.

"_Did you ever know that you're my hero,  
and everything I would like to be?  
I can fly higher than an eagle,  
'cause you are the wind beneath my wings…"_

Since there's nothing else to do while Katniss drags me somewhere, I decide to sing tribute songs to all my fallen friends.

* * *

_A couple hours later…_

"_It might have appeared to go unnoticed,  
but I've got it all here in my heart.  
I want you to know I know the truth, of course I know it.  
I would be nothing without you…"_

[_Mockingjay_, page 16:

"_Gale nods at the howls coming from my game bag. 'Now I know why you had to go back.'_

'_If there was even a chance for his recovery.' I dump the bag onto a seat, where the loathsome creature begins a low, deep-throated growl. 'Oh, shut up.'"_]

I'm about to reach a the ultimate chorus of the song when: BOOM! It's as if I've been dropped from a twenty-story building.

I let out my best yell, trying to express to Katniss how upset I am. I was about to reach the best part of the song!

Katniss doesn't respond.

All I can hear is Katniss and some deep, handsome voice mumbling about depression or some deep poop like that.

Now that Katniss has ruined my singing mood, all I'm left to do is tortuously wait until I can see Prim again.

Maybe there is hope for happiness after all.

* * *

"_This is my family. I found it, all on my own. Is little, and broken, but still good. Yeah, still good."_

_~Stitch, _Lilo &Stitch_ (2002)_

_

* * *

_

**A/N:** Sorry for not updating in a while. I kind of forgot about the epilogue...

According to my plan, there are two more parts to the epilogue.

Thanks for reading (:


	17. Chapter 17: Epilogue Pt2

Chapter 17- Part Two of the Epilogue: **The Meow in the Mix**

"You will always be lucky if you know how to make friends with strange cats."  
_**- Colonial American Proverb**_

* * *

It's been approximately one-hundred and twenty seven hours, when I feel Katniss grab the reeking bag and start walking on solid earth. Sweet, stable land, oh how I have missed you.

The flat surface for walking, however, does not stop Katniss from swinging the bag back and forth in a nauseous rocking motion. It takes me all of my energy not to throw up remnants in my tummy. Oh wait. THERE ARE NO REMNANTS IN MY TUMMY!

Apparently, Katniss thinks I can magically conjure up a nutritious meal like a lonely woman has the ability to conjure up cats.

Finally, Katniss has reached a point where she is ready to release me from this smelly cloth unit. With the wonderfully annoying sound of a zipper, I tumble out of the bag and slam onto the floor.

Oof.

_And another 5,007 brain cells bite the dust…_

All the pain my poor poor head is experiencing recedes as I spot the blonde-haired, blue-eyed girl.

***AND THIS IS WHAT HAPPENS NEXT***

An overweight cat runs for the blonde-haired girl.

As if it were a cliché, slow-motion scene in a romance movie, the cat dramatically lets out a heart-warming statement of joy:

"Meow."

A well-known fact:

"Meow is like aloha - it can mean anything."

-** Hank Ketchum**

* * *

_Two seconds later_

Prim squishes me practically to death, embracing me tightly in her arms. She weeps, and weeps, and then stops, only to weep some more. Soon I'm weeping because I've missed her disgusting, salty tears just so very much.

Prim rocks me back and forth on her lap, as I purr an orchestra of beautiful meows. Occasionally, however, I hiss at Katniss. I don't quite have a reason. I just feel like it. I have to release my inner kitty angst to _someone_. Might as well be Katniss. Being my living vent gives her a purpose for living.

As if knowing that I'm contemplating how much I hate her, Katniss gives me a big, fat scowl.

I can only smirk as Prim ties a bee-yooooo-tiful blue ribbon around my neck. Prim loves _me_.

It takes me a while to rid of my temporarily growing ego, but after I do, I take in the scene in front of me.

***HERE IS WHAT BUTTERCUP SAW***

A healer who has not completely healed is tearfully clutching onto a small photograph, as if it is the missing piece to a simple jigsaw puzzle.

An innocent girl is weeping tears of joy, hugging a tattered cat who provides the warmth and love every seed requires to grow.

And a hunter awkwardly stands alone, wrapping herself in her own arms, mentally deciding whether home is defined by where you are or who you are with.

* * *

_Six hours later_

I think I know why I have to take twenty naps per day. It is because at night, I do not sleep a wink. I'm not afraid of the dark, and no, I do not have vampire syndrome. It just doesn't feel right to sleep at night. I get this suffocating feeling, as if I am drowning in a big puddle of dirty water. During the day, I can sleep peacefully, dreaming of butterflies, and rainbows, and sunshine...

The squeak of the springs of a bed signals Katniss waking up, in a sitting position.

She finally has decided to just stay awake. After constantly turning this way and then flopping that way, only to thrash back to the other way again, Katniss was really getting on my nerves. Someone obviously has never tried to count sheep.

Katniss' groggy morning eyes lazily blink at my alert pupils. She then takes a look at me, nestled next to Prim. Just like before, I protect Prim from the darkness.

My eyes follow Katniss as she "tiptoes" to a shelf-thing. I watch her curiously as she gets all sentimental when looking at funny looking items.

"Katniss?"

Yay! Now that Prim is awake, we can play.

Prim, however, has a different idea. She gives all of her attention to stupid Katniss. Katniss' nose is running, her eyes watery.

"What's wrong?" Prim gently prods.

"Nothing," Katniss says, quickly erasing all traces of weakness. I don't think she realizes that even the weakness-less have times of weakness.

Prim carries me to Katniss' bed. The three of us sit together in a little huddle, surrounded by a fuzzy blanket. Mostly it's my body heat warming us. I'm like a portable heater.

I think about returning to Prim's bed, but I'm the deli meat squished between two slices of whole wheat bread. I decide to just stay put like a good little slice of ham.

Katniss and Prim begin to talk, whispering about some random stuff, like birds. A mockingjay is mentioned quite often. I mostly avoid listening to them, because I hate girl talk. Why can't we just play already?

"…it will have to be public," Katniss states, a fierceness in her voice.

Involuntarily, my tail whisks back and forth. Katniss takes this as support. In reality, I just thought it was funny that Katniss pronounces "public" like "poo-blic." Ha. Poo-blic.

I never even question _what_ will have to be poo-blic.

* * *

"Even overweight, cats instinctively know the cardinal rule: when fat, arrange yourself in slim poses."

- **John Weitz**

* * *

_Two days later…_

***THE FIVE THINGS BUTTERCUP DID WHEN HE WAS ALLOWED OUTSIDE***

1) went to the bathroom wherever he felt like going

2) arranged pebbles into various creative phrases such as "I WAS HERE" and "DOGS SUCK!" and "BACON."

3) made signs intended for squirrels that said: "FOLLOW THE BRIGHTEST STAR TO THE GREAT OAK TREE. THERE YOU WILL FIND THE LARGEST ACORN. EVER. tee hee."

4) sun bathed

5) pondered upon the meaning and deepest, darkest mysteries of life, along with its ironies

* * *

**Dorothy**: Weren't you frightened?  
**Wizard of Oz**: Frightened? Child, you're talking to a man who's laughed in the face of death, sneered at doom, and chuckled at catastrophe... I was petrified.

* * *

_[PICK A NUMBER] days later…_

"BOOM!"

An extremely large thump wakes me up. Vibrations follow the thump, creating chaos. I can hear babies start crying, little kids screaming, footsteps running across the hallway floor.

More crashes, booms, thumps, and ka-bams occur.

I start to howl and scream and hiss and yell because I don't know what else to do. It's just me locked in the room. I'm terrified.

My heart is making a funny sound, kind of like "ka-thump." I must be very scared... or excited. I'll go with the first emotion.

The scene reminds me of the bombing of District 12. The sound of objects colliding into the ground is the same. The heartbeats of civilians are increasing. And I'm left alone. Again.

But as if the God of Felines has sympathy for such a humble cat such as me, Prim rushes into the room, scoops me up in a record time, and zooms out. Dreamy stranger, also known as Gale, runs in back of us, ushering Prim with, "Go faster! Go faster!"

We descend down and down multiple stairs. Soon, it's hard for me to breathe, but I tell myself to just keep inhaling and exhaling. Might as well breathe as much air as possible before I die.

After about a million kazillion stairs, Prim squeezes into a room. Before I can even say "Cheesy buns," Katniss gives Prim and I a big hug. Hopefully this little hug is temporary, because I just lost one of my nine lives from suffocation.

"What were you thinking?" Katniss angrily asks Prim. Although she is asking Prim, I know Katniss is blatantly blaming this whole thing on me.

"I couldn't leave his behind, Katniss," Prim sniffles. "Not twice. You should have seen him pacing the room and howling. He'd come back to protect us."

Katniss releases some of her inner tension, her shoulders relaxing.

I have just taken one relaxing breath of air when Katniss grabs me by my neck and growls, "I should've drowned you when I had the chance."

Perhaps Katniss didn't mean it as a real threat, but the images of a bucket of water makes me petrified, yet furious at the same time.

My ears go down. I angrily raise my paws, ready to give Katniss a big ole' scratch.

I'm about to hiss, too, when Katniss shocks me by releasing her own hiss. It needs work, of course, but she took _my _signature line. I contemplate showing her what a real hiss sounds like, when I get a better idea.

I sniffle and then give a little mew, resembling a cute little kitten's. Right away, Prim tears me away from Katniss.

"Oh, Katniss, don't tease him," Prim frowns. "He's already so upset."

Katniss glowers at my smug, little face. Take that, Katniss.

More humungous blasts and crashes arrive. The walls shake a bit, not reassuring me at all. The scary noises and vibrations remind me of thunder. And rain. And furious, grey clouds.

I tremble as Prim tucks me into a little box-shaped thing. I'm miserable. Even with my family, a warm blanket, and a fully tummy, I feel like a jelly bean. I'm waiting for a chubby boy to pick me up and pop me into his mouth, yet at the same time, I'm hoping I'm a yucky-flavored jelly bean. _Inevitability and hope..._

Prim tries to console me with strokes, while also giving Katniss her undivided attention. Usually, I would be upset, but right now is different. Katniss needs Prim more than I do.

Katniss needs as much light as possible to cause the darkness to retreat.

* * *

***CRAZY CAT: THE RULE OF THE GAME***

If you see anything shiny, bright, sparkly, glittery, and moving, chase it.

*if applicable, you may kill the shiny, bright, sparkly, glittery, and moving object

* * *

Whoosh.

The bright circle suddenly changes its position. Immediately, I pounce after it.

Whoosh.

There it goes again!

I quickly pounce from one area to the next, chasing after that mesmerizing orb of light.

The light and I seem to be dancing, reacting to one another's actions.

Whoooooooosh!

Suddenly, the light is on the ceiling. I jump upwards, attempting to capture this evasive species of light. A chorus of laughter fills the room. I ignore the cheers, trying to capture this stupid circle of light. After numerous attempts, I start to whine and mew. I cannot get the light. Why won't the light let me catch it?

"I promise to let you go, once I catch you, " I plead to the light. Nevertheless, the light continues to dance on the ceiling, mocking me as I wait on the floor.

I pace back and forth, trying to find some way to capture this beaming light. I'm about to jump for the ceiling again, when suddenly the light is gone.

"Meow!" I screech. I look everywhere in the room for the light. Where are you, light?

My attempts to find the light are futile. The light is gone. The room remains dark, no sign of the mysterious circle of brightness.

I would be upset, but I understand everything must end. The light might have died. Or maybe the light just took a nap. It does not matter, because I have to move on.

I need a nap.

Prim gathers me into her arms, and we lie down on the lower bunk. My sight starts to get fuzzy, and my eyelids droop as the lights of the room come and go. It's as if they don't know whether to stay or go. Indecisive imbeciles, I think.

"Make up your mind," I meow, clearly annoyed.

Then, a black haze surrounds me, and I fall into a deep slumber.

_...After all... tomorrow is another day..._

*el fin, por ahora

* * *

A/N: I'll be done with the third part in a week, max. I know, I know. I'm a slow writer. Mostly, I'm just lazy and I recieved four projects/essays/lab reports as a "Happy Vacation" gift from my teachers. So cut me some slack. Thanks.

Oh, and the answer to an important question: I'm a dog person.

**More cat quotes:**

"There are two means of refuge from the miseries of life: music and cats."

- **Albert Schweitzer**

"People that hate cats will come back as mice in their next life."

- **Faith Resnick**

**Random Quote:**

""It is the unknown we fear when we look upon death and darkness, nothing more."

J.K. Rowling, _Harry Potter and the Half-Blood_ _Prince_ (2005)


	18. Chapter 18: Epilogue Pt3

Chapter 18: Part 3 of the Epilogue

**The Why in the Wisdom**

"Surrendering to reality is a tranquil suicide."

~Author Unknown

* * *

_Her cold hands placed me next to Katniss, who at the moment, was lazily staring at the wall. It seemed as if Katniss knew she was in reality, but was not quite ready to leave the nonexistence._

"_You keep each other company, okay?" she said, her wide blue eyes wavering. She gave me that smile: the one that reminded me she'd always come back to me. _

_**A SAD FACT**_

_She never did._

_

* * *

__Years later [after Katniss and Blondie do the hippity-hoppity and produce rugrats]_

A shopaholic will compare life to a shopping spree at the mall. A drooling child will tell you his life is a chocolate chip cookie: innocently perfect. A mother will tell her son that life is a box of chocolates, and her words of wisdom will be: embrace the chocolate. A scholar's tribulations will parallel to those of Odysseus, and a barista will enunciate, "Make the best lemonade out of the worst lemons. Tip, please."

Yet what will the adventures of a scraggly cat be compared to?

The most obvious would be a series of mouse hunts. Or perhaps a charming stroll in the woods. My elderly wisdom would whisper: life is a messy ball of yarn.

My life cannot find value in words. Life is defined by the moments.

"…And that one is _mine_," a little girl bossily tells her baby brother. She holds up the cookie and points to it. "Mine!" she barks.

"Teehee," the baby giggles.

Her words interrupt my thinking. I lay on the kitchen floor, swishing my tail back and forth. The shadow of my tail creates a dance on the smooth, wooden floor.

The dark-haired, blue-eyed girl glares at her brother to make her point before tickling him. The little boy has blonde hair like his father. His wide, gray eyes allude to his mother.

"Cookie," the dark-haired girl slowly says to her little brother, "is _mine_."

His chubby fingers grab for the cookie. In seconds the cookie vanishes into his mouth. After the cookie is devoured, he smiles a wide, toothless grin. "Teehee."

The baby's adorableness makes his unhygienic-ness worth it.

"I said that one was mine!" the girl whines to her baby brother. She pokes his stomach and scowls. Her scowl almost matches her mother's notorious one.

"Ow," the boy pouts, his hands hugging his chubby tummy. Tears begin to materialize, so I quickly nuzzle his neck. After licking his cheek, the baby smiles.

"Hiccup."

When the dark-haired-girl has finally realized that the cookie is forever gone, she explains, "Fine. Now you only have three cookies left. These nine are _mine_."

Her little brother gurgles and smiles another toothless grin before letting out a large belch. Afterwards, he giggles.

"Daddy!" the girl complains. "The baby is gassy!"

While Blondie (who is evidently aging) arrives to help the baby release some more gas, the little girl begins to count the cookies again. Her eyebrows furrow as she concentrates on counting. She continues to count over and over again, as if more cookies will magically appear.

Life is a cookie. And people spend all their time trying to maintain that cookie without actually enjoying it. People should really…

_Whoosh._

Soon enough, I am in the dark-haired girl's arms. My aged body hurts from all that movement.

"Buttercup," the little girl starts, "You're a boy, right?"

I meow because I do believe I am a boy. At least the last time I checked…

She continues, "Then you can answer my question."

My tail begins to wag. She's delightfully bossy. Her mother, on the other hand, is just plain annoyingly bossy…

"Well, what I want to know is: Why are boys so gassy?" She is scowling again, remembering all the times her baby brother contaminated her personal space with gas.

I just wag my tail, while she still scowls.

"You're not much help, are you?"

She puts me down again. And as I walk away, the dark-haired girl adds, "Buttercup, you're one fat cat."

* * *

"Hate leaves ugly scars, love leaves beautiful ones."

Mignon McLaughlin, _The Second Neurotic's Notebook_ (1996)

"_It was a waste of a trip. She's not here," Katniss said angrily._

_I hissed. She did not have to get all saucy with me…_

"_She's not here. You can hiss all you like. You won't find Prim." _

_Prim? Where's Prim? My ears perked up at Prim's name. As long as I found Prim, I knew my family would be fine…_

_I meowed a couple times to encourage Prim to stop hiding. Where was she?_

"_Get out!" Katniss yelled furiously at me. She flung a heavy and potentially dangerous pillow at me. Using my feline instincts, I quickly dodged it._

"_Go away! There's nothing left for you here!" Katniss began to shake. I thought she might explode._

_Where was Prim? Where was Prim? Where was Prim? _

"_She's not coming back! She's never ever coming back here again!" Katniss grabed another pillow. Standing up, she raised her arm, ready to throw another soft lump of danger._

_Suddenly, Katniss began to cry. Disgusting salty tears of grief poured out of her eyes. "She's dead."_

_Dead. Prim was dead._

_And Katniss might as well have been dead, for I could feel her heart and soul slowly shattering into shards. The once admirably strong girl was clutching her stomach as if the enemy was inside of her._

"_She's dead, you stupid cat. She's dead."_

_Katniss cried and cried. Her voice became a chorus of anguish and depression. _

_The only thing I could do was wail with her. I cried for the death of Prim and all the memories of her._

_Katniss began to fall into a sleep on the sofa. As night creeped in, I sat beside her. I protected her from fear, doubt, and pain. _

_She slept under a mask of peace, yet I knew that when she woke up, all the pain would be back. Sleep may be the strongest sedative, but like all drugs, it wears off._

_At least we have each other._

_I will protect Katniss from the darkness. _

_**A CALMING THOUGHT**_

_Death needed Prim more than I did._

* * *

"No one can go back and make a new beginning, but everyone can start here and make a brand new end."

~Author Unknown

* * *

I have lived for over twenty years. For a cat, this is fortunate. For a cat that has escaped death three times, this is a miracle.

I've lost my family three times. After the first time, I found Prim. She became my family.

The second time, I found Prim again. This time, we forged a closer bond.

The third time, I lost Prim, but found Katniss.

And Katniss found a new family, too. She found family in Peeta, and she found family in me.

Before, my family included a blonde-hair, blue-eyed girl.

Now, I give my love to the lost hunter, the fragile Blondie, the naïve dark-haired-blue-eyed child, and the blonde-dark-eyed stranger to the world.

Sometimes an end is but a beginning.

As I watch the girl and her little brother dance in the meadow, I remember the story of two siblings. They tried to leave a trail of breadcrumbs to find their way back home, but a bird ate all the crumbs. The siblings experienced some pretty horrifying stuff, but in the end, they made it home.

Effort will not always be the key to reaching goals or desires. It's the experiences, mistakes, and lessons that forge the new paths to the old goal or completely new goals.

Like the barista said, life will give you the lemons. What you do with those lemons depends of you.

I apologize for flooding your minds with my feline thoughts.

The best part about the moment before death is being able to finally make sense of why life happened the way it did.

My life is done. I'm tired. And I'm sure as well ready to hug the eternal slumber.

Thanks for the company,

Meows,

Buttercup.

_"To die will be an awfully big adventure."_

Peter Pan_ by James M. Barrie_

* * *

Note: Sorry for the delay. Life is a traffic jam.

_**Thanks for reading (:**_

According to my biology teacher, the best pick-up line is: "Only in Biology does multiplication result in division."

[Sexual reproduction of organisms]

**Question of the Day:**

What would you compare your life to?


End file.
